Once upon a time I met a little potato farm girl named BWAN. She was the ripe old age of 15 when we met at summer school, and now she's positively ANCIENT.
30 years ago, yesterday, was my dear friend's joyous day of birthing, and as a top secret gift, I contributed a page to a group sketch book. This was my entry.
15 years of friendship entitles me to be mean. . . and silly. I've earned it.